i dont know what to type, i just feel like typing.
hopefully if i keep typing something good will come out.

things have been hard.
well they used to be, not so much anymore.
when i first got here i was lost and i didnt care.
i was numb, captive to my pain.
and i didnt care, i wanted to lose myself more.
i got to the point that when i would look in the mirror i didnt recognize
who was staring back at me.
going out every night losing myself in the crowd.
inflicting physical pain just so i could feel something.
anything i could get my hands on i would turn into a weapon.
pathetic, i know.
i had been working so hard and it all came tumbling down.
well after a while i just stopped functioning.
I felt like i was dead traped in a living body.
i thought me not caring was me getting over it,
but i was wrong, i dont think i had ever been so wrong.


I had it coming, oh yes i did.
He had been waiting, waiting to break me
waiting to save me.
I did not see it coming.
I was satisfied with watching the red river flow from my body.
watching it swirl as the water washed it away, watching it go down the drain.
with the cold metal teeth sitting in my hand, it felt familiar
it felt nice.


But something was creeping.
a feeling of unimaginable force.
It hit me like a fraight train.
It was as if i could hear my bones crushing, splintering, stabbing
every vital organ in my body.
I felt paralyzed. Of coarse nothing was breaking
I was still intact, functioning perfectly fine.
But it was still there yelling, screaming for my attention.

thats when i realized who it was,
my father, my creater
screaming with arms held wide open.
seeing my actions through his eyes
feeling what he felt as he watched me
mutilate what he created out of love.


For the first time he broke me the way I broke him.
I could see my cuts, the ones inflicted on myself
bleeding through his pure white robs.
staining them scarlett.
Every cut that had healed and scarred bled.
He bled for what I was doing to myself.
I truly realized how much I hurt him.
I no longer bled, he bled for me.


I sat there with my head between my legs
grasping to catch my breath.
I could bear hurting myself but seeing
my father bleeding I could not.
I couldnt stand hurting him, he died on the cross
for my repentance. I was not born yet, but he died for me.

I cried begging for forgiveness,
not asking, begging. My eyes were finally opened
He loves me,
he loves me enough to teach my how to to love myself.
For all the times i have felt lonely he has filled me.
For every tear I have cried he has dried.
For everytime I bled he had healed me.


Since that day I have been living life differently.
There is beauty in the breaking.
I am never alone, he is with me.
I have never felt him stronger.
With every breath I inhale, he teaches me.

My life will be lived for him.
I am his.
I will live my life to make him proud.
To make my Father proud.
He has forgiven me and so can I.




well... i guess thats it?